Locked Out of Love (33 page)

She leaned forward until their lips nearly touched, her breasts pressed firmly into his solid chest. “That sounds amazing.”

His hands slid down the sides of her body, reaching the hem of his t-shirt. He dragged his fingers along the smooth skin of her thigh and cupped her bare bottom in his hands. “Are you ready to be inducted into the Guild of Truth as a Siphoner?”

She rubbed her pelvis against his, only half listening as his hands began stoking a fire within her.

“If you'll have me, I'm all in,” she breathed and pressed her lips to his.

He growled low in his throat. “I'll have you, all right.”

He rolled her beneath him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A big thank you to all my family and friends who've supported me in my writing career. To all the Guild of Truth fans out there who waited patiently for this book. Thank you to Crimson Romance for believing in this series, and a special shout out to my editor, Julie, for making this book the very best it could be!

This was so humiliating. After moving out seven months ago, Cali was already crawling back to her parents.

That's what you get for trusting anyone.

Jessica had been her roommate, her sort-of friend, and she'd stolen Cali's painting and hawked it to the highest bidder to get the money and run.

Cali exhaled. “Figured.” She'd been working on that painting for two months. It was supposed to pay for this month's rent. It was a little too convenient that it was Cali's turn to pay the full brunt when Jessica decided to take off. Her parents were going to love that.

Don't think about that. Remember the job offer you got back in April. Vander said you were all but hired. Use that to lure them in, then when their defenses are down, pounce.

It was as good a plan as any, but that didn't stop the nagging voice inside her that said her parents wouldn't do a damn thing to help her. While she knew her parents weren't the harshest out there, she still thought it a little heartless for them to force her to pay rent at eighteen or move out when neither her brother nor sister had to.

Jared and Garnet never got arrested.

It didn't matter. Her parents never helped her when she'd been behind paying them rent. Why would they help her now? She'd once had to pawn off a gold bracelet they'd bought her for her sixteenth birthday so she could make her payment. Granted, she'd splurged that month on new oils and brushes, but her parents never approved of her art.

And that bracelet was hideous, so maybe they did you a favor.

Either way, she'd see this through till the end. She kept her head high as she unlocked the front door.

The drapes were pulled shut, casting the house in darkness. She squinted against the sudden change in lighting, giving her eyes a second to adjust.

A lone shadow lay hunched in the hallway.

The back of her neck prickled. “Hello?”

The lump didn't move. Gripping her side bag, she pushed the door open wider with her shoe. The sun spilled into the hallway, not quite reaching the far end where it led into the kitchen.

Get a grip, Cali. How do you know that thing isn't a new piece of furniture Mom and Dad bought?

She squinted against the sun's reflection cast on the wood floor and hesitantly made her way in.

Her heart stopped. “Whoa.”

The body slouched up against the wall was surrounded by a pool of bright red blood.

That's a lot of blood.

She was going to be sick.

Don't panic, don't panic, don't …

She sucked up her fear and approached. What if he was still alive?

With all that blood? Yeah, right.

The man couldn't have been any older than thirty-five. He had brown hair and plain features, nothing to make him stand out in a crowd, unless one factored in the current piece of wood sticking out of his chest.

Dropping her bag, she inched closer. Was that a stirring spoon?

All panic fled as concern took root in her gut. She called out, “Mom? Dad?” The prickling at the back of her neck intensified, and nothing but dead silence greeted her.

Movement at her feet had her jumping back with a shriek. The dead man slumped forward, his body caving in on itself. The skin started to sink in as if aging decades right before her eyes. This most definitely wasn't a sign of rigor mortis, and with morbid fascination she watched as the body continued to shrivel until all that was left started to crumble and turn to ash.

Cali wanted to scream, but her throat closed up, her eyes fixed to the sight before her.

She had to find Mom and Dad.

Trying to control the trembling of her limbs, she edged toward the kitchen, keeping as far from where the man had been as possible.

“Don't freak,” she told herself. “There has to be some sort of reasonable explanation. You're not going insane.”

But how did she know that? Didn't all the research say that a person never knew when they were crazy?

She shook her head and stopped dead in her tracks as she entered the kitchen. “Mom!” She rushed to her mother's prone form on the floor, her father within arm's reach. “Holy shit.” She checked her mother's wrists, felt no pulse, cursed and fumbled around at her neck.

The pulse was slow but steady.

Cali sagged in relief, her muscles turning to jelly. She crawled to her father and checked his throat. She'd never been good at taking radial pulses.

“What the hell happened here?” The kitchen hadn't been touched. There was no sign of a struggle. It was as if some kind of assassin had snuck in, incapacitated her parent's and then gotten stabbed in the chest. But by whom?

The light coming through the open threshold flickered.

With a sinking sensation, she realized she'd left the front door wide open.

• • •

It couldn't be real.

Felix took the next corner a little too sharply. He'd always hoped — hell, he'd dreamed of finding the one woman who was meant for him. That one person he wouldn't have to hide himself from, but after so many years he'd simply given up. He'd stopped looking for any sort of companionship ever since Collette —

He cut the thought off as soon as he'd had it, but that didn't stop the memories.

Jasmine. Dead.

The bullet scar along his left shoulder stung. He ignored the phantom pain and sped through a yellow light. He'd learned the hard way that his life would never permit him to date or get close to any normal girl.

And if this girl was another
normal
person to save?

Was it possible Niella had Dreamed wrong? He doubted it, but it tempered his excitement. He needed to stay level headed. There was no point getting riled up over a fantasy that'd been haunting him for four years. The only living proof he'd been given had been shot down the very same day. By him.

He turned down the last street and scanned the houses for their numbers. It wasn't necessary. The house had the front door wide open.

His hands tightened around the steering wheel.

Was he too late?

He parked on the curb one house up and ran from his car. His eyes caught a large, navy blue van two houses down. The hair prickled at the back of his neck.

He stepped through the front door.

Silence greeted him. The drapes were drawn shut, casting the house in shadows, the sun carving a shaft of light through the dim hallway.

Something shimmered at the end of the hall. He gently shut the door. He took measured steps deeper into the still house. No matter how quiet it was, that didn't mean he was alone.

The hallway led into a kitchen but before he stepped through the threshold he squatted down next to the shimmering pile of ash. He passed his hand right through it. “Illusionist.”

A chill swept down his spine. This was not another vigilante rescue mission. The seriousness of Ell's prescience crashed down on him. He'd just run head first into something he had no concept of.

Other people with powers were involved.

Movement darted past the archway that connected to the kitchen. The shape female.

Felix jumped to his feet. “Hey.” She was reaching for a drawer, and he had a pretty good idea what was inside. He grabbed her before she could get her hands on something pointy.

Her body jerked. Felix hissed as a jolt went straight through his system.

“Don't touch me.” She started to struggle but he dropped her instantly, having no idea what had ripped through his body.

She stumbled. Dark brown hair covered her face until she whirled on him, her hands held like claws near her chest, ready to strike.

She faltered when she caught sight of him. He was pretty sure his face held the same expression.

She was tall.

It was the first thing he fixated on. And why not? Sydney didn't even reach his shoulder, and Niella was bound to a wheelchair. He'd met tall women before, when they came into the bakery, but none of them was this tall.

Not without high heels, anyway.

She had to be at least five-ten. Her shoulder-length, dark chocolate hair was cut in an edgy fashion with side bangs. Her eyes were polished onyx and her skin had a faint golden tinge, as if she'd just begun enjoying the So Cal summer sun. She had on a loose-fitting tee and jean shorts with sneakers. It emphasized her lean build. Felix's whole body tightened. It looked as if she'd been made for him.

Her eyes finished their own appreciative assessment of him. His appearance had caught her off guard. The thought made him smile.

When she noticed his attention all emotion was wiped from her face. She regarded him coldly. “Who are you?”

He gave a bow from the waist, making sure to keep his eyes locked with hers. “Felix Del Valle.”

Her eyes raked him again. His blood rushed south.

Calm. Stay calm.

She took a step back from him and glanced down the hall toward the front door. “Did you kill that man?”

He frowned. There was no man …

Then he remembered. The Illusion.

He ground his teeth. Niella was right. This was some kind of trap. Someone was setting her up. But for what, he didn't know. “No, but I need to get you out of here.” Every instinct inside him raged for him to protect her. “You're in danger. This is a trap, some kind of set up. There was a dark blue van parked two houses down. I thought I might have been too late, but either way I don't think we have much time.”

She looked at him like he was crazy and stepped back. He wanted to follow. He wanted to be near her, to smell her hair and touch her skin.

She glanced over her shoulder. Felix followed the movement and spotted a man and a woman on the floor.

Shit.

“There's no way I'm leaving my parents,” she said.

He didn't blame her, only now his chances of getting her to leave with him went from slim to none. There had to be something he could —

His gaze shot back to the girl's parents. He stared hard, knowing he hadn't imagined it.

It came again. The slightest shimmer along their shoulders, like an image struggling to stay in focus.

An Illusion.

The air left his lungs. “Son of a bitch.”

That could only mean two things. One, the Illusionist was getting tired. Two, he was still close by.

He swung his attention back to the girl. She jumped back.

He ran a hand through his hair. How the hell was he supposed to explain this?

“Look, your parents aren't real.”

Her eyebrows rose and her foot darted out behind her, seeking an escape.

Great start, Felix.

He took a hesitant step sideways, trying to ease his way over to where the Illusion of her parents resided. If he could get her to reach out and touch them then she'd see that they weren't real. The Illusion was fading, the power draining, which meant they were going to lose their solidity.

She watched his progress with blazing eyes, but she didn't retreat. He took that as a good sign.

When he got within a foot of the Illusion he stopped. She looked ready to strike if he so much as sneezed at the Illusion wrong. “I'm not going to harm them,” he tried soothing her. “But you have to believe me when I tell you they're not real. If you'd simply touch them you'd know.” He started to lower himself. All he'd have to do was show her, then she'd see …

“I've already touched them. I felt for a pulse. It's there — faint — but there. And if you so much as harm one hair on my father I'll make that trick you pulled with the stirring spoon on the man in the hall look downright enjoyable.”

Felix halted his hand where it was inching out to touch the shoulder of her father. “Stirring spoon?” What the hell had been back in that hallway?

She didn't elaborate on what she had seen and Felix didn't ask.

There was no time. He could sense the minutes ticking by.

There was another faint glimmer from the Illusion. Time was running out. If the Illusion dropped then he had a feeling their time was up.

“Would you just watch?” he bit out. “Nothing is going to make sense to you right now but if you'd simply watch, it would really cut down on all the explaining I'd have to do.”

He looked up and found she'd retreated a few steps.

He lightened his tone. “Please.”

He didn't wait for her to respond. He eyed her father and slowly lowered his hand. If the Illusion remained solid, he was so totally fucked.

His hand slid right through the back of her father's shoulder blade. He sighed in relief and kept his hand where it obviously sat in the middle of the Illusion's body.

He looked up to explain. “I know it looks — ”

She'd made a break for it.